The year was 1953. Sir Edmund Hillary and Tenzing Norgay became the first explorers to summit Mount Everest. Marilyn Monroe graced the cover of the first Playboy issue, wearing absolutely nothing on the centerfold. An American’s average wage: $3,139.

And in the sports world, an 18-year-old San Diegan accomplished something that had never been achieved before.

Sixty years ago, Maureen Connolly, who grooved her lethal ground strokes on San Diego’s public courts, became the first woman to win tennis’ Grand Slam, capping wins in all four majors in the same calendar year with a triumph in what’s now the U.S. Open.

“I didn’t realize it was 60 years,” said Doris Hart, 88, who lives in Corral Gables, Fla., and fell to Connolly in three of the finals. “My God, I know it’s a long time.”

Like Sandy Koufax, Connolly’s athletic career ended at its zenith because of injury. Less than one year after winning the Grand Slam, Connolly suffered a severe leg injury while horseback riding in Mission Valley. She never played competitive singles again.

While Connolly was one of the greatest female tennis players ever, in totality, her life was a tragic one. She died of cancer in 1969. She was 34.

“You can’t compare players of today against our era. That’s not fair,” Hart said. “But I always said Maureen was the greatest player I played against. Her record proves it. She won everything by 18. Who else has done that?”

A trip Down Under

Winning the Australian Open wasn’t Connolly’s biggest task in ’53. Getting there posed the greater challenge.

The Open era, when players could play for pay, didn’t begin until 1968.

“There was no money. Nothing,” said Hart.

Flying to Australia or taking a luxury liner was not cheap, so the Australian Open attracted thin fields.

Connolly played there once, in ’53.

The grass-court tournament turned out to be a breeze for “Little Mo.” She lost only five games her first four matches. In the finals, she handed fellow Californian Julie Sampson Haywood a 6-3, 6-2 defeat.

Playing other tournaments and exhibitions, Connolly’s trip to Australia lasted three months. Upon her return, The San Diego Union ran a huge photo of the hometown hero, nattily attired in a mid-calf-length skirt, sitting on her suitcase, holding two stuffed-animal souvenirs.

One was a koala bear she named “Who Dat,” the other a kangaroo dubbed “Hopperoo.”

The San Diego Evening Tribune opted for a picture of Connolly clutching a boomerang.

A will to win

An aside on Connolly’s nickname, “Little Mo.” The late San Diego Union sports writer Nelson Fisher tagged Connolly with the handle, liking her deadly ground strokes to the World War II battleship USS Missouri, nicknamed “Big Mo.”

“Maureen had marvelous, marvelous ground strokes,” said longtime local tennis pro Ben Press, 89, who lived a stone’s throw from Connolly in North Park and played her often.

In fact, one reason for Connolly’s success is that she played boys and men to lift her game.

“We must have played 500 times,” said Press, who was 11 years older.

Connolly was naturally left-handed, but her first coach, Wilbur Folsom, changed her to a righty, fibbing when he told the prodigy, “They don’t make left-handed rackets.”

Martina Navratilova’s first Grand Slam title still a quarter century away, Folsom changed the southpaw Connolly to right-handed for one reason, according to Press.

“There simply weren’t any left-handed players of note back then,” Press said. “He figured you had to play right-handed.”

Connolly lost only one set during her Grand Slam run. A Brit, Susan Patridge-Chartrier, pushed Connolly in the French quarterfinals before losing 3-6, 6-3, 6-3.

Connolly’s comeback in the French quarters is indicative of what many have said about her. More than her baseline game, Connolly’s greatest weapon was her insatiable will to win.

“She had great determination,” said Hart, who was 10 years older. “And her concentration was fantastic. Nothing upset her. Like you’d be ahead in the game and you got the feeling you were behind. Other players said the same thing.

“She could get the worst call and not say a word. It was over and on to the next point. I admired her a lot.”

Connolly dispatched Hart in the French final 6-2, 6-4.

Reporters clacking away on typewriters were served an easy storyline. Hart had upset Connolly in the Italian Open leading up to Paris.

Both the Union and Evening Tribune headlines recounting the final featured the word “revenge.”

A simpler time

Helen Abel, her byline including the addendum “Special (San Diego) Union Correspondent,” wrote a piece on Connolly from Wimbledon in 1953. From Abel’s story, editors apparently wanted a behind-the-scenes account.

Abel left a note at Connolly’s hotel saying “I would be in the stands at Wimbledon cheering for her,” she wrote, adding that she hoped to see Connolly before the tennis star departed London.

Abel not only met Connolly, but the teenager gave her a tour of the women’s clubhouse. Tidbits Abel gleaned during an interview included: fashionista Ted Tinling not only was designing “Little Mo’s” tennis attire, but also date dresses made of silk; she attended four London plays; and while most of the players had lost weight during the fortnight, Connolly gained three pounds. Weighty matters, indeed.

As for the tennis, Hart pushed Connolly in the final before losing 8-6, 7-5.

“I remember coming off the court, and I felt like I won,” Hart said. “I couldn’t have played any better. I didn’t feel bad.”

The old Balboa Tennis Club was located where the south end of the zoo parking lot is today. Press and Fisher, who would be pallbearers at Connolly’s funeral, and other tennis buffs gathered at the club and turned on a bread-box-sized radio, awaiting Little Mo’s results.

From Forest Hills, N.Y., in the late summer of ’53, the news was always good. Connolly swept to the grass-court final, losing only 15 games in five matches, then sealed her place in history, defeating Hart 6-2, 6-4.

Connolly joined Don Budge (1938) as the only players to win the Grand Slam.

Interviewed on national TV after the match by Budge, Connolly clutched her latest trophy and said, “I was shaking all over when I went out there. I can’t begin to tell you how very, very, happy I am. It’s a wonderful thrill.”

That Connolly became the first woman to win the Grand Slam is historic. But what’s more indicative that she was the greatest player of her generation is this:

She entered the U.S. Championships in 1949 and ’50 when she was 14 and 15 years old, losing in the second round each year.

From 1951 up until her horse racing accident in ’54, Connolly played in nine Grand Slam singles tournaments. She won all nine, compiling a 50-0 record.

Press, though, remembers his protégé not so much for her tennis game but for her dignity.

“She called me from the hospital (in Dallas) a couple days before she passed away,” said Press. “She said, ‘I have no regrets. I had a great family (she married and had two daughters). I had a good career.’

“She didn’t say, ‘Why me?’ one time. It had to bring tears to your eyes, somebody that young, that good to have no bitterness in her voice at all.”

A Grand Club

Only five players have won tennis' Grand Slam, capturing the four majors in the same calendar years. They are: